title: danse macabre
rating: T for curse words, violence and a bit of gore
genre: Horror (?), Romance (?)
disclaimer: I own nothing.
inspiration: the Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe + Crimson Peak + a bit of Jennifer's Body
background music on loop while writing this fic: danse macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns
warnings: Possible disturbing imagery because of dancing skeletons (think Pirates of the Carribbean). There will also be mentions of human sacrifice and dismemberment, mind you, so if you're uncomfortable with that, you can go back. Nothing too graphic I suppose, at least not by r/nosleep standards. Weird characterization, too. And I'm out of my element here (fantasy really is my forte, I swear), so it's not as pretty as my other fics, I think. Plus the usual: errors, etc. etc. You can check my profile for an enumeration of my usual warnings.
Pre-story notes: I was not lying in my profile when I said I couldn't write a horror story to save my life. I really don't know where this story came from, and I'm not entirely sure about its genre since if I consider it from a standpoint of a horror story, it's not scary, and from the standpoint of a romance, it's not even remotely romantic. I'm really just experimenting around, testing a genre other than fantasy (this should be entitled experiment no. 1). Don't expect too much because I find this piece rather lackluster and... weird? Whatever, I'll let you decide for yourselves.
Enjoy!
"I take you to be my lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold—"
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She promptly realized that she was in her white Michael Cinco wedding dress, holding a bouquet of flowers in her hands. It took her a bit longer to realize that she was now supposed to be walking her way down the aisle.
Her dress was generously studded in Swarovski crystals and fine beaded detailing, the bell-shaped skirt reminiscent of an elaborate ballgown that princesses used to wear; and indeed, everyone commented that she looked every inch a fairytale that came true as she floated down the aisle towards the altar. The veil that covered her face was equally as intricate, with as much beads and crystals that matched her dress. Her simplistic Stuart Weitzman Nudist sandals was paired immaculately with her elaborate ensemble, and a bouquet of ivory roses and cream peonies with lilies of the valley completed her look.
Her entire getup had cost a fortune, but he had insisted that she was worth more than his entire wealth, so he bought her everything that she wanted.
It was their wedding day after all.
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"—from this day forward, for better or for worse—"
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The scene abruptly changed, and she was startled at the unexpected stark contrast of the backdrop.
Her white wedding dress was replaced by a black mourning attire: a fine Coco Chanel sheath dress with high collars, lace and bow detailing, and the same refined, form-fitting silhouette that the label was known for. On her feet were Christian Louboutin Corneille pumps, the dominant color as black as night and the soles as red as blood. On her face was a birdcage veil, liberally decorated with chenille dots and inky tatting. And instead of a bouquet in her hands, a candle was clutched to her chest, the red glow of its flame ominous and menacing.
She was still walking down the aisle, but instead of approaching an altar, she was approaching something else—
A coffin.
It was a funeral.
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"—for richer or for poorer—"
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The scene changed again, and she was back to her wedding gown in an instant.
The sun was shining beautifully, and the air was as light as a feather. There was joyous music all around, a chanting of a beautiful wedding chorus that was accompanied by the mellifluous sounds of harps, flutes and guitars. The place was decorated in fine light-colored drapes, with white calla lilies and ivory carnations arranged intricately along the aisles. White butterflies fluttered about, completing the image of her dream wedding.
She sighed in relief at the scene. She did not understand why she was shown her previous visions, but she prayed that she would no longer return to the day her world fell apart.
She continued down the aisle, trying to look as strong and as confident as she can, wondering if the visions would come back to her.
She was almost at the altar now, about to face her groom who was smartly dressed in a white custom-tailored Armani tuxedo and a matching pair of Santoni Duke leather loafer shoes. His usually messy auburn hair was tidily arranged for once, and his emerald eyes regarded her lovingly.
He looked at her with happiness.
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"—in sickness and in health—"
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Now she was sure that she was going insane.
Just as she approached the altar, her surroundings changed again without warning.
The skies were gloomy and dark, with barely any sunlight peeking through windows of the venue. The cold air was foreboding as well, and the wind howled like a long lost lover yearning for an affection that was never coming back. Instead of a chorus of heavenly voices, a choir of sinister songs was strung together in an eerie ensemble of grieving violins and cellos and organs. The flowers were replaced, too, and what were supposed to be ivory and cream blossoms morphed into blood red spider lilies that overwhelmed the dreariness of the place, basking the venue in an otherworldly crimson glow. And instead of white butterflies, black spiders swarmed the place, from the floors to the walls all the way up to the ceiling.
She squirmed at the sight, panic rising in her chest as she fell towards the altar in an attempt to evade the critters. When she held on to the side, she realized that it was not the edge of the altar that she was holding, but something else.
It was the coffin.
She tried to still her palpitating heart as she cautiously peered down the transparent glass that covered it, and her eyes widened at the sight.
It was her groom.
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"—until death do us part—"
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Shutting her eyes in horrified reflex, she stepped back and covered her ears, letting go of whatever paraphernalia she was holding.
She knew that she was strong, but this was all too much to take in. She had no idea why he was showing her all this, forcing her to relive the horrible memories of that day. A rush of memories filled her head, of the happiness she felt during her wedding day, and of the scarlet horror that enveloped the venue towards the end of the ceremony.
She screamed as loud as she can, calling out for help when she was stuck in a loop of hellish memories that she wished would never come back. She screamed until her throat felt raw and sore, until her tears choked up the heaviness of her heart. When she could no longer find her voice, she collapsed on the floor as a sobbing, heaving mess.
"You may now kiss the bride," a wedding officiant suddenly announced.
Startled at the new development, she snapped her eyes open and immediately stood up, surveying her surroundings. She was in her wedding dress again, but everything was wrong.
Her white dress was smeared in blood, an inky red masterpiece that mixed the innocence of white with the sinful shades of wine and crimson. The flowers she was clutching were red spider lilies that glowed beautifully in the darkness of the venue, and the same eerie chorus of violins and organs sang sinister tunes, only more upbeat and lively this time. Everywhere around her, figures clad in black danced together in practiced unison, flawless and snappy. It didn't take her long to realize that they were skeletons that danced around her.
Panic consumed her entire being anew, but a pair of cold hands held her in place. Glancing at the body in front of her, she trembled as rotting, bony hands grabbed hold of her veil, raising them so that he could give her a proper kiss—
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"—no—"
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She froze as she faced the skeletal remnants of her lover, the flesh on his once beautiful visage rotting away, now covered in worms and flies and decomposing skin. Dark voids of nothingness were placed where his emerald eyes should be, and his auburn hair was losing its color. His bony fingers clutched the smoothness of her shoulders, its emaciated structure digging into her skin until they drew out fresh blood.
"You promised!" he howled with what was left of his dead voice, the sound so frightening but so desperate at the same time. "You swore to me!"
She covered her ears at his anger, closing her eyes as tears spilled and a mantra of apologies sprang forth from her mouth. "I'm sorry I said yes," she repeated over and over again, hoping that the ghost of him would calm down. Could he not see that this was for both of their sakes? "Please believe me when I say that I'm not going to break my vow, I swear!"
The ghost of him screamed in agony, and his last words pierced her heart, the vow forever etched into memory, tormenting her day and night.
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"—not even death can do us part!"
DANSE MACABRE
"dance of death"
| According to legend, Death appears at midnight every year on Halloween. Death calls forth the dead from their graves to dance for him while he plays his fiddle. His skeletons dance for him until the rooster crows at dawn, when they must return to their graves until the next year. |
She woke up crying.
Cold sweat had enveloped her skin all over, and she had to take in deep intakes of breath at the memory of her dreams. She eventually calmed down when she realized that it all had been in her head, and sought for a glass of water from her kitchen when she was able to. Sending a quick text to her fiancé, she waited until a black sedan pulled up in the garage of her apartment.
"Eret," she greeted him as soon as he appeared on her doorstep. Embracing his form, she basked in the comfort that his frame afforded, finally feeling safe with his presence in the house. "What took you so long?"
"Business deals needing to be closed," he replied shortly, hugging her back. "Another nightmare again?"
She nodded unconsciously into his chest, and he embraced her closer in response, leading her to the bed. Stroking her hair, he soothed her until she slept peacefully once more.
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Two years before the marriage ceremony, she was supposed to get married to someone else.
He was her first love—no, her only love.
He was a handsome boy with adorably messy auburn hair, the brightest green eyes and the most well-defined face that was dusted with enchanting freckles. He was from an extremely wealthy family of old money and noble blood, and she was surprised to learn that not only was he brought up properly in refinement, but in humility and reasonableness as well.
They had met through common friends in one of the soirees that was held in her honor for being first place in the national tournament, and they immediately clicked on the spot. She had laughed at his name—Hiccup—because surely a boy with such charm and wit could not be named so ridiculously. Both of them eventually grew closer for the next few months, although she was still apprehensive about their blossoming relationship. He knew so little of her after all, and she was unwilling to share the most important piece of information about her—the one information that only her best friend, Heather, knew. But he was a surprisingly stubborn young man, and he was eventually able to pry her most intimate secret from her. When he accepted her still despite what she was, she could only stare at him in wonderment.
She knew right then and there that he was the one she wanted to be with for the rest of her life—or his life, for she knew that she would live longer than him.
They kept a steady romantic relationship after that, and even if their relationship was rather unconventional, Heather still supported them through and through.
When he proposed to her after she won the world tennis championship, she had immediately given her consent even before he could finish the question. They planned to be wed as soon as possible, and it was on a bright summer day when they exchanged their vows.
The ceremony started perfectly: an area draped in white—white flowers, white butterflies, white doves, white cakes, white dresses—served as the best venue for their wedding; all of their friends were present, and his family was ever-supportive of their relationship. Nobody opposed their union, and the wedding was executed splendidly from start to finish—
Until an army of men clad in black hoods marched into the wedding venue, bringing guns and rifles and several other weapons to stir panic in the room. Chaos ensued, and in her haze at all the shouting and commotion, her groom was taken from her without her consent. She fought and kicked and punched, but a handkerchief laced with chloroform was shoved into her face, and she fell unconscious amidst the chaos.
When she woke up, everything was clad in black—black curtains, black chairs, black tables, just dark, dark, dark black—except for the body on the makeshift altar that was dyed in red. Blood red.
She screamed at the scene, clutching her groom to her chest, not minding the stain that it would leave on her expensive dress. Her world crumbled, and no matter what she did, what had happened could not be undone.
(A crazy occult ritual, the police investigation would later reveal when they noted symbols everywhere. Everybody was knocked out and the murderers were hidden behind hoods and masks, so there were neither eyewitnesses nor suspects.)
Heather had embraced her as soon as Hiccup's corpse was taken away to be prepared for burial, whispering apologies in her ear, weeping with her. "I'm sorry," she had said. "I should have—I should have—" she kept on repeating again and again, but she knew that it would not comfort Astrid.
Nothing ever would.
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Two months after the tragedy, Eret walked into her life.
She was in a bar together with Heather and another friend, Ruffnut, nursing her broken heart with a Death in the Afternoon. He had piqued her interest then, not with his inconveniently roguishly handsome looks, but with his charmingly dubious aura. He had ordered another drink for her, a Black Russian, and she was rather hesitant to take whatever it was that he had offered. Ruffnut was much more trusting, though, taking the Frosé that he had ordered for her.
"Have we met before?" Heather had asked him curiously. "We've made a deal before, have we not?"
"Surely you must be mistaking me for someone else," he coolly answered. "I would have remembered if someone had a goddess for a friend." He had winked at Astrid then, but she rolled her eyes at his antics, leaving the counter before the Black Russian could arrive.
He was persistent, though.
He followed her everywhere, like an inconvenient admirer that would not let go of his prey. Curiously, he had never breached the threshold of stalking—he was a polite gentleman who always respected her wishes but presented himself when he was needed, and he had never done anything as remotely creepy towards her. Indeed, she had gradually come to admire how he could be so courteous and unrelenting at the same time.
Heather did not like him, though, and she had taken great lengths to warn Astrid of him. Astrid only nodded her head in reply, to which Heather thought was rather peculiar, seeing as Astrid usually valued what she thought of.
Despite their opposing looks and personalities, both Astrid and Heather had known each other since, well, forever. Heather was the more composed between the two of them, coming across as somewhat indifferent and oftentimes cold, what with her cool personality and usually black attire. Astrid was the one with a spitfire personality, her temper and white outfits a telltale sign of her fierceness. They were once called the 'hot and cold' duo by a common friend, and another had dared to call them 'alive as day and dead as night.'
(Astrid supposed that they had no idea how accurate they were.)
("You are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth," Heather had remarked once, and Astrid had to steel herself at the rightness of her words.)
Despite Heather's protests, though, Astrid had entertained Eret, and after a year of a hard courtship, she finally gave in to his advances and entered a romantic relationship with him.
Spiders crawled the moment Eret stepped foot into her apartment, spinning webs of lies and deceit.
Two months before the marriage ceremony, Eret proposed to Astrid.
She immediately said yes then, perhaps even faster than when she had said yes to her first love. Heather had begrudgingly given her blessings after she and Astrid talked one afternoon, planning what was to become of her marriage.
It was also during this time that her nightmares started.
It always started the same way: she was in her wedding dress, walking down the aisle as she was about to meet her groom, then it would change scenes to a funeral, then back to the wedding again. Always, her first lover taunted her, accusing her of infidelity. And the scenes repeated in her head, an unending loop of alternating scenes between the wedding and the funeral.
Eret suggested that it may be anxiety; she had lost her first love in a wedding after all, and perhaps the prospect of another marriage was stirring unwanted emotions in her. He further proposed that she work harder so that she could get the images out of her head.
Astrid took his suggestion to heart, and worked double time at the gym, in her tennis practices and at home. She practiced twice as often and exercised twice as hard. In her apartment, she scrubbed the floors shiny and cleaned every nook and cranny of her rooms. It was during one of these times when she was cleaning her apartment when she noticed spider webs with trapped butterflies on her ceiling.
Eret looked on the butterflies that had collected on the spider's web that had formed in the nook of one of her rooms. "They're dying," he commented. "They take the heat from the sun, and when it deserts them, they die."
Astrid looked at the butterflies as well, forlorn. "How sad. It should be given life." She delicately picked a butterfly that was trapped in the web, gently removing it from the stringy structure and giving it enough space and air until it flapped its sunset wings again to fly away.
"You didn't have to do that."
"But it's my job," she replied, admiring the now freed insect.
He looked up at her, confused. "What?"
"I meant I was trained as a nurse," she explained.
"But you're a socialite that rose to fame because of your athleticism," he replied, chuckling. "Where did all this nursing thing come from?"
"Oh, right," Astrid sighed. "Please forget that; it must have been from an imaginary past life. I'm just being sentimental, is all. It's just so sad to see something dying."
"No, it's not sad, Astrid," Eret replied, ignoring her sentiment. "It's nature. It's a world of everything dying and eating each other beneath our feet."
She shook her head in disagreement. "Surely there's more to it than that."
He pensively gazed at her, and she met the contemplative look of his stare. "Beautiful things like butterflies are fragile."
Like you, his unspoken words hung in the air, though she knew that he would not dare tell her that if he did not want to face her wrath. "Back in my hometown, we only have black spiders like this one. Formidable creatures to be sure. Shame that they have no beauty, though. They do thrive in the dark and cold, however."
Astrid broke eye contact with him, looking back at the butterflies trapped in the web. "What do they feed on?" she asked curiously.
Eret didn't miss a beat as he spoke. "Butterflies, I'm afraid."
Astrid ended up getting the rest of the trapped butterflies as gently as she could from the interconnected cobwebs, and proceeded to remove all visible webs from the area.
In another nook in her room, another spider spun its trap anew.
Two weeks before the marriage ceremony, Astrid and Eret visited the venue of the wedding.
It was a huge greenhouse garden venue located just on the outskirts of the city of Berk, perfect for events. A grandiose piece of architecture, it was bigger than the Great Conservatory of Syon Park, being able to hold a little more than six hundred guests. They had planned to invite almost everyone at Eret's company, which numbered more than half a thousand, so the venue was perfect for their guests. A vast collection of flowers and plants decorated its interior, and another huge maze of a garden sat just outside of it.
They discussed the wedding details with the planner, Astrid being extra picky with the food, and the decorations and the security. She was going to be wed again, after all, and she did not want the tragedy of her previous wedding to happen again.
After the discussion, the couple decided to explore the vastness of the place, looking at the different flora and fauna available in the greenhouse. Astrid marveled at their collection, her smile lighting up as she saw various flowers, from tulips to hydrangeas, to asters and orchids. She froze, however, as she saw a familiar set of red lilies, the vastness of their number glowing scarlet under the sunlight.
"Lycoris radiata," she breathed at the sight of them.
"What?" Eret asked, following her line of sight and finally landing on the flowers.
"Red spider lilies," she said and expounded, "In the East, these scarlet flowers usually bloom near cemeteries around the autumnal equinox, and are believed to guide the dead into the next reincarnation."
Approaching the sea of red flowers, she sought to stroke the petals of lilies. "It was said that there is a river in the underworld called the Forgotten River that separates the underworld and the living world. Growing on the shore of this river are these flowers. Some legend has it that the scent of the flowers will bring back all the beautiful memories of the dead for one last time, before they disappear when they cross the river." She thought of her past love, and she found herself longing for him, hoping that he hasn't—won't—cross the said river.
"Another legend has it that when a relationship ends, no matter how sad it is, or when you see someone that you may never meet again, a red spider lily will grow around the Forgotten River to prove that love did exist and something beautiful will always remain at the other side of the shore." She released a sigh, still finding herself thinking of him. But she was sure that she was going to meet him again… eventually.
If not in this life, then she'll make sure that they'll meet in the next.
"How coincidental," Eret remarked after a few minutes of pondering at her words. "They usually bloom near cemeteries, you say? There's a cemetery right across this greenhouse. Did you know that?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Hiccup is buried there."
An awkward silence hung in the air.
Thankfully, the planner had come bursting into that part of the greenhouse, showing them the colors that she had picked for their wedding. They left eventually, forgetting the red flowers that haunted the place.
At their departure, they did not notice the spider webs that clung to the corners of the greenhouse, with butterfly cocoons trapped in its sticky threads. The spiders waited in eager anticipation at the cracking of the cases, which was due soon.
Two days before the wedding ceremony, Astrid called her old friends, asking them if they would be there on her wedding.
"How did it go?" Heather asked in the afternoon, appearing in her apartment in her usual black garb.
"Fishlegs and Snotlout don't want to talk to me," she replied solemnly, tucking her phone away. "Ruff and Tuff have previous commitments on the wedding day, though I suspect that they're just being too polite at turning down my invitation."
Heather placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, Astrid."
"It's for the best," she sighed, nodding her head. She took a bottle of Rock Rose gin from her shelf, and poured glasses for both her and Heather. Placing a glass in her hand, she continued, "It's better if they won't be there during the ceremony. I don't think they'd be able to forgive me at what I am about to do. Ruff used to be smitten with Eret after all, and Tuff would be there to side with her. And Fishlegs, as Hiccup's best friend, and Snotlout, as his cousin, would not be able to move on from his death."
Heather nodded her head as she sipped her gin.
"You don't have to go, you know," Astrid told her. "I understand if you wouldn't want to go."
"And what? Miss out on all the fun?" Heather sent her a knowing smirk, and Astrid had to suppress a knowing smile of her own. "It's going to be all right soon."
Astrid smiled slowly, looking down at her drink. "I know."
Somewhere in the corner of her apartment, a chrysalis trapped in a spider's web threatened to crack, wings longing to spread in the polluted freshness of the air.
Two hours before the wedding ceremony, Astrid fidgeted in her wedding dress.
This time, she was dressed in a Krikor Jabotian creation, carefully structured and beautifully detailed in pearls and beads and lace trimmings. Her veil was similarly ornate as well, hanging over her head like a thin sheet of woven art. She wore a pair of impeccable Manolo Blahnik Hangisi jeweled pumps, and she clutched a bouquet of ivory tulips and calla lilies to her chest.
Years ago, her groom was attacked towards the end of her wedding ceremony. She wanted something different to happen today, and she hoped that all of her plans would go well later.
Heather visited her quickly in her changing room, and she surprised Astrid by wearing a color that she did not expect—a bright red, form-hugging Oscar de la Renta gown paired with black Jimmy Choo Lance shoes. "I know it's out of the motif," Heather started, hugging her, "but I wanted to wear a color that would match the occasion. It's going to be the best day of your life, anyway, so I figured I should wear something that would match the events of today."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries at the events that would unfold today, and both of them laughed in merriment and shared one last drink of Moët & Chandon that Heather had snuck in with her.
"I'll always be a beautiful lie," Astrid remarked all of a sudden, the alcohol in her drink working its way into her consciousness.
"And I'll always be a painful truth," Heather retorted just as enthusiastically, slightly tipsy.
Both of them laughed again at their random outbursts, making Astrid forget her nervousness for a moment.
In the corners of the greenhouse, spiders enthusiastically approached several sets of cracking chrysalises, yearning to intercept the butterflies that were about to burst forth.
A feast was about to ensue.
Two minutes before the wedding ceremony, Astrid positioned herself in the center of the aisle.
She had no parent, so nobody flanked either side of her to walk with her. And when the wedding march started playing, she slowly walked down the aisle alone, clutching the bouquet of flowers closely to her chest. She grabbed hold of Eret's arm as soon as she reached the end of the aisle, and both of them proceeded to the front of the altar so that the ceremony could begin.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was going to be all right.
She was about to kneel down in front of the altar, when Eret surprised her by letting go of her hand. She looked at him, puzzled, and he gave her a sly, almost diabolical smile in reply. Color drained from her face at his action.
"Eret, what—"
Eret snapped his fingers and instantaneously, black drapes covered the glass windows of the greenhouse, blocking the sun's rays from entering the place. The chandelier atop the greenhouse palace glowed red as soon as the glass panels were covered, blanketing the area in forbidding scarlet hues that contrasted well against the darkness of the curtains. The guests produced robes of black as well, donning them on as soon as the darkness consumed the place.
She froze, gulping at the familiarity of the scene.
Her head spun towards her fiancé, who was now garbed in black robes, too, similar to what the guests wore. It barely registered in her head when two robed men apprehended her, dragging her beautiful frame towards the makeshift altar, which was now covered in black.
"Forgive me, Astrid," he breathed as he looked at her, though she knew that he did not mean it. "But this has to be done. It's nature, anyway. It's a world of everything dying and eating each other beneath our feet," he reminded her.
Astrid stilled at his betrayal, her face hardening as she glared daggers at him. "Why?"
"Our first blood sacrifice two years ago was not enough," Eret explained. "It gave us wealth, that was true, but we yearned for more."
Two of Eret's friends stepped forth towards the front, who Astrid identified as Viggo and Ryker. They joined his side, and they cornered her into the altar, forming a circle around her.
She struggled and screamed against the men that held her, clawing and attempting to kick all of them in her rage, her veil falling from her head at the struggle. They proved to be more powerful than her, however, and Eret slapped her across her cheek when she continued to fight against them. Her body fell unceremoniously at the impact of the strike, pain blossoming on her skin where his palm collided with her face. She glared hardly at him.
"We've spent years making offerings to Death and whaddya know? Death delivered! When we killed your little boyfriend two years ago, we went from being penniless little shits to millionaires overnight!" Eret laughed at her expression of surprise and betrayal, her jaw clenching and her fists tightening as she sent him a death glare. "But that's not enough, Astrid. We want to be billionaires—no, make that kazillionaires—you know, the type that gets featured in Forbes and Time, the one always on top of the food chain. In short, we want more. And to get more, we have to butcher you. And bleed you. You have to be another blood sacrifice for our fortune."
"How original," Astrid replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at their shallowness. "Bet nobody thought of that before you."
"Shut it," Ryker roared, kicking her.
"Let's start the ritual before she destroys the mood," Viggo suggested, and both men nodded their heads.
The men that held her hoisted her from the ground to the altar, one of them pinning her hands above her head, the other securing both of her kicking feet, effectively pressing her down the table.
Eret faced the guests as he stood beside the altar, declaring, "We come here tonight to sacrifice the body of Astrid Hofferson, a maiden possessing a heart of pure intentions, though not at all a virgin any longer."
Astrid spat at him, offended at having her intimate secrets shared.
Eret smirked at her as he removed the spit from his face, languidly wiping the substance off with the back of his hand. He then unsheathed a gleaming dagger from underneath his robes, raising it above his head. The guests began chanting in gibberish, and gooseflesh erupted throughout Astrid's body at the sound of their menacing chorus.
"With deepest malice, we deliver this maiden unto thee."
Astrid grappled against her captors once more, desperate to move away, but she was held in place firmly, and without warning, Eret swiped the dagger—
—and plunged it into her chest.
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Somewhere in the nooks and crannies of the greenhouse, butterfly wings emerged from the hardened cases of the chrysalises, spreading the paired appendages in hesitant flaps.
The spiders took this opportunity to pounce on the newly birthed insects, taking advantage of their defenselessness.
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The heavens roared in thunderstorms, darkening with clouds of ominous shapes. Even when the black drapes covered the glass panels, the absence of the heat of the sun could be felt, what with the sudden drop in temperature, as if winter had prematurely arrived.
She lay limp and lifeless on the table, pristine white wedding dress dyed red with fresh blood that seeped through the perfectly embroidered fabric at the juncture where the dagger met her chest.
All of the guests cheered at the successful ritual, waiting in eager anticipation at their reward—the promise of unending wealth.
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Several merry moments passed.
The room froze, however, as a shrill cry of a violin pierced through the air, silencing them. All of them looked around for the source of the sound.
This was not part of the ritual.
Then another sound joined the tune of the violin—it was a hollow, cackling laugh, mirthless and forced, but beautifully terrible and disturbingly familiar at the same time. Everyone's jaw dropped as they promptly discovered that the laugh had come from Astrid.
The Astrid that they had stabbed in the ritual. The Astrid that they had killed for wealth.
The Astrid that was supposed to be dead.
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The butterflies fought back unexpectedly.
They hurriedly flapped their wings at the sight of the advancing spiders, kicking and thrashing their thin legs to release them from the cocoon. They struggled with all their might against the attacks, evading the spiders' venom and in a collective effort, overthrew the heinous creatures.
Flapping their wings, all of them escaped the spiders' clutches and flew from the web unto the vastness of the greenhouse.
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Astrid's eyes snapped open, revealing blue irises that were very much alive and shining.
She flashed a sweet smile at Eret's terrified form before forcefully kicking the man that held her feet, sending him rolling on the ground. Then with a sudden jab, her fists connected with the jaw of the man who was supposed to be securing her hands, and he fell down the floor, air knocked out of his form. She rashly rose up from the table, cracking her knuckles and casually removing the knife that penetrated her chest with the indifference of a child.
Eret fell down, eyes wide as saucers as his frame trembled at the sight of her alive. Ryker and Viggo immediately left his side, hurriedly getting out of her line of sight.
"Did you think I did not know?" she mused aloud as she sent him a playful smirk. "Did you think that I did not suspect the day you came into my life? Hiccup had mentioned before that he had a business partner named Eret, and I knew the moment I saw you that you had something to do with his death. And Heather confirmed my suspicions. You did make the deal with her after all. Not that she knew that you were going to kill my Hiccup—she wouldn't have agreed if she knew!"
Eret looked at her, disbelieving and confused. What in the world was she talking about?
"I allowed you to get close to me for revenge at first," she continued when he was too stunned to reply. "I wanted to kill you, too, but as the personification of life, I can't take your life away from you as that's Death's job. I wanted to crush your heart just as you had crushed mine, but I had no idea how to do it, so I kept you for some time until I could think of a plan. It wasn't until you thought to kill me as a sacrifice to Death when I finally hatched a plan, and Death herself helped me with it, giving her blessings to marry you when you proposed. She can hear you, you know, when you try to talk to her." Astrid pointed at the form that walked down the aisle.
Heather appeared down the aisle in her dreadfully gorgeous red dress, playing the violin while everyone watched in immobile horror at the development. Another incident was about to occur now, as the stench of dead, rotting flesh permeated the area with a fatal scent, and the appearance of several shadows showed on the glass panes of the greenhouse, visible even through the darkness of the drapes.
Astrid glanced at her friend, then addressed Eret again. "Are you familiar with the dance of death?" He remained immobile, so she continued, "According to legend, Death appears at midnight every year on Halloween. Death calls forth the dead from their graves to dance for her while she plays her fiddle, then her skeletons dance for her until the rooster crows at dawn, when they must return to their graves until the next year. Well, it's too early to party right now, but we can welcome change, too. Like her playing the violin now, seeing as she broke her fiddle two centuries ago."
The sounds of shattering glass reverberated in the huge room, and a swarm of the undead piled in, sending all of the guests in a panicked state as all of them ran around to look for an exit, only to be intercepted by animated corpses that tore at their limbs and clawed at their bodies.
Astrid calmly descended the table as a pack of undead pushed through the front, grabbing Viggo and Ryker by their feet, hauling them into the chaos of the venue. Two undead bodies grabbed hold of Eret as well, and a shrill scream was heard as they clawed on his stomach, disentangling his innards.
"Did you ever hear the tragedy Life?" she asked, ignoring his screams. "I thought not. It's not a story mortals would tell you. It's a story that the winds whispered. You see, Life was the personification of existence itself, of birth and growth, of continual change until Death took over. She could create life, provided that Death has not yet withdrawn breath from that which she gave life to. There was only thing she was afraid of, and that was losing the man that she loved, which eventually, of course, she did."
She faced his deteriorating frame that was being defiled by two corpses, anger blazing in her eyes. "Her lover was taken away from her by greedy little shits who decided to make him a sacrifice for wealth. Unfortunately, she could no longer give life to the one she loved as Death had claimed him." Shaking her head, she finished in torment, "Ironic. She could give life to everyone else, except to the man that she loved."
Another set of cadavers showed up then, but this time, they were carrying a black casket with them, which was placed on the ground just between the bleeding Eret and the nonchalant Astrid. She thanked them, and promptly opened the lid of the coffin, revealing the rotten corpse of her true love, decaying skin almost inexistent, and with filthy critters settling everywhere.
"You do know the price of wealth, do you not?" she muttered, lovingly looking at her lover's rotten form. The dead body wore a replica of the custom-tailored Armani tuxedo that he wore during their wedding day, the original one having been stained by blood. "The blood sacrifice requires the heart of a true gentleman born of noble blood. And Hiccup was perfect for that."
She carefully stroked the skull then, removing the worms and rats that had settled in the coffin. Unflinching, she rearranged his bones, aligning the broken ones that had almost festered away. "And the price of more wealth, as you've mentioned earlier, was the blood of a maiden possessing a heart of pure intentions."
Then she looked at Eret, at his form that was half-alive and half-dead, shouting indiscernible words that bore no meaning for her, her eyes twinkling in malice. "But do you know how much the price of life is?" she whispered, her voice strained with distraught. "It's priceless."
He whimpered then, not because of the undead that were gnawing at his flesh, but at the intensity of the death glare that Astrid was sending him. "If a life was taken, then it was never coming back. It's against the laws of nature to bring someone back to life. But if you're that desperate, and if you really want to know the price for resurrecting someone—it was another thousand priceless lives." She cocked her head to the side, fondly caressing the bones that was left of her lover. "But I loved him so much that I was willing to give up everything, even my immortality. Luckily for me, Death and I go way back, and I was able to convince her to trim down the number of blood sacrifice to half."
She faced him again, this time flashing a radiant smile. "And thank the heavens you invited all of your followers, who numbered over more than five hundred and twenty! Isn't it convenient?" She laughed then, astonishingly genuine. "Thank you for providing me what I needed! Now I just have to feed you to Heather's army and then my true love will come back to life."
A butterfly with red-orange wings suddenly appeared, and Astrid immediately beckoned it to settle on her fingers. She showed it to the gasping Eret, who was now slipping out of consciousness. "A madrilenial butterfly," she informed him casually. "Or better known as the bloodsucking butterfly. They only ingest blood from carcasses, though, but seeing as you are about to become one, I don't see any harm if it settled on you."
She left the butterfly on his dying body, and the butterfly promptly pulled out its proboscis and sucked on whatever blood was available for it.
Astrid smiled as Eret's form began to lose consciousness, and the song Heather played continued, a beautiful symphony of grotesque elegance that urged the undead to kill the living and dance all night. She danced to the tune as well, and waited for the blood sacrifice to finish so that her one true love would awaken from his slumber, restored to his youth and vibrancy.
She surveyed her surroundings, and reveled in the stunning horror that befell upon the area. Heather's gracefully calm form played the violin against the backdrop of the rotting undead that chewed on and terrorized the wedding guests, dismembering random bodies in reckless abandon. The red glow emitted by the chandelier that hung above matched well with the red spider lilies that eerily sparkled under the artificial light and with the sunset butterflies that were now fluttering about, settling on bloody remnants of the decaying. Finally, the darkness of the drapes and the blackness of the night completed the mood of the venue, contrasting well with the crimson hues of the lilies and the butterflies and the lights.
Everything was so charmingly grotesque and elegantly sinister that she could not help but smile at Heather's handiwork.
It would now only be a matter of time before her true love woke.
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"I promised, didn't I?"
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He opened his emerald eyes and grinned at her.
Astrid punched him the moment he did so, though.
"Will I always wake up like this?" Hiccup asked exasperatedly, soothing the pain in his chest where her fist met the fabric of his tuxedo. "I'm barely out of my coffin and you're trying to kill me again."
"That's for scaring me," Astrid declared, glaring at him in annoyance, arms folded across her chest.
"All right, so I panicked," Hiccup said, holding his arms up in mock defeat. "I didn't think you'd agree to his proposal, okay? So I had to terrorize you every night to remind you of our marriage vows."
Astrid rolled her eyes. "Like I'd ever forget our promise."
She leaned in as soon as she saw the opportunity, and captured his lips in a kiss with all the force that she had, making him senseless. He eagerly returned it, gingerly holding her head as if it was yesterday, drinking in the potency of her lips.
"I thought I'd never see you again," he murmured against her skin, almost desperate. Breaking the kiss, his lips grazed the smoothness of her neck, indulging in the rush of carnal desires that finally made him feel so alive. "I missed you so much, M'lady."
"Get a room, you two," Heather teased overhead, a sly smile on her face.
"Death," Astrid greeted, slightly pushing Hiccup away from her.
Heather nodded back. "I told you it would be the happiest moment of your life, Life."
"Thank you for your help, old friend."
"It was the least that I could do," Heather muttered, gesturing to Hiccup. "Forgive me, I didn't think it was you they were going to sacrifice."
"I really think five hundred dead bodies with dancing skeletons and a ritual on top would be more than enough as an apology," Hiccup laughed. "So don't get worried about it."
Heather giggled at him, and raised her violin once more. "It's about to strike midnight, by the way, so the danse macabre will start soon. Would you like to join the party?
Astrid faced Hiccup and held out her hand. "May I have this dance, Babe?"
Hiccup laughed again, and he eagerly took the outstretched hand that was offered to him. She helped him get out of his casket, supporting him as he wobbled on his feet, his muscles forgetting for a moment how to stand.
Heather struck the strings of her instrument, and the trill echoed around the hall, beckoning the bodies of the undead to stand and move to its rhythm.
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Zig, zig, zig, Death in cadence,
Striking a tomb with his heel,
Death at midnight plays a dance-tune,
Zig, zig, zag, on his violin.
The red spider lilies opened up in full bloom. The madrilenial butterflies feasted on the cadavers of the dead. And the glow of the moonlight covered them in an otherworldly shine.
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Zig, zig, zig. What a saraband!
They all hold hands and dance in circles.
Zig, zig, zag. You can see in the crowd
The king dancing among the peasants.
The skeletons swayed and danced to the tune, the crowd forming a great circle in area. The corpses of the old mayors and the street peasants and the townspeople twirled and swayed, following the lead of the couple that stood out in the middle of the crowd: a maiden dressed in white splendor, and a gentleman coated in cream finery.
The vision of the undead was a sight to behold. It was grotesque yet enchanting, horrifying yet beautiful, and tragic yet exquisite.
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But hist! All of a sudden, they leave the dance,
They push forward, they fly; the cock has crowed.
Oh what a beautiful night for the poor world!
Long live death and equality!
The rooster crowed at dawn, and so the corpses returned to their graves one by one, with Death leading them into their rightful crates. All of them disappeared into the earth, except for the guests who attempted to kill for a blood sacrifice, and the couple who now faced the sunrise, planning their new life together.
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"Not even death can do us part."
END
I've always wanted to write a story for the piece danse macabre as I find it so eerily beautiful. The concept in my head was always a bride who was about to marry her groom who turns out to be Death. I just didn't think I'd apply it to this ship, seeing as there's no concept that would connect the story to the ship. But it's almost Halloween anyway, so why not experiment? X)
I'd also like to apologize for Eret's characterization—I dislike turning characters to villains just because they're a threat to my ship (not that Eret had anything on Hiccup, I mean, Hiccstrid is pretty much endgame, but there's just a hint of chemistry between Astrid and Eret that I can't shake off), but I didn't know who to use, so I eventually settled on Eret. I don't hate him, just to get that straight.
Favorite imageries used include red spider lilies (very interesting flower with just so much myths and legends; really, an entire fic can be made with just this flower as the symbolism, and it would still be beautiful) and madrilenial butterflies (bloodsucking butterflies that can be found in Spain. Yup, they're real). Also, I used the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise as a reference in one of Astrid's lines, if you missed out on that.
And before I forget, I'd like to thank everyone who gave any sort of feedback on my other fics—On Rings and Kings and Fancy House Mottos, and Murphy's Law. Special mention to Lumen del Mari, MistyHart44 and CajunBear73, who have been there to review ever since my first chapter on my first fic. You have been very supportive and considerate, and I am extremely grateful for that. Also, thank you so much to aaquater and Funtasticme for your very kind words on Murphy's Law. I've no idea if any of you are reading this, but if you are, please know that your efforts in writing a review are very much appreciated. And really, that also applies to everyone who gave an effort on feedback.
Lastly, I've no idea how I did in this fic, so if you have anything to say, please let me know.
Thank you all!